


It is like destiny

by red_flag



Series: The Old Guard Clexa AUs [1]
Category: The 100 (TV), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Because fuck canon, Crossover, F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, Immortal Clarke Griffin, Joe and Nicky are Lexa's dads, M/M, Soulmates Clarke Griffin/Lexa, The Old Guard AU, immortal lexa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:09:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25442938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_flag/pseuds/red_flag
Summary: Lexa dies. Then, she wakes up.orThe Old Guard Clexa AU that none of you have written and I was forced to do it myself.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Series: The Old Guard Clexa AUs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877899
Comments: 32
Kudos: 315





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Look what you guys made me do. Look at this. How dare you? If there is a fic out there already, I searched and never found it and well, here we are.
> 
> No Clarke in this part. She's going to be in the next one though. Clexa are soulmates and endgame because fuck canon.
> 
> Nicky and Joe are Lexa's dads. Nile is the cool older supportive sister we all want. Brooker is the broody brother. Andy and Quynh are the moms of the whole group. If you haven't watched the movie yet, what the hell are you doing with your life?
> 
> Be safe, happy reading, wash your hands and have a nice day.
> 
> Trigger warning; the fic starts when Lexa gets shot.

The bullet hurt. More than anything Lexa had ever felt before. It ripped right through her body and stayed there and Lexa was left with a hand hovering near the wound, not knowing if she should press down. Hot blood licked out of the hole in her stomach and then she was falling, chocking on the burning black blood rising up to her throat.

She was on a bed then, unfamiliar but soft, a scent wrapping around her as her body was pressed on the furs underneath her and she chocked again because she’d taken deep inhales of the woman’s beautiful scent not even an hour ago.

Clarke was above her and Lexa hated the way her presence was followed by harsh agony. The blonde was pressing down on the wound on her stomach and Lexa was gasping and coughing and there was black blood spat out of her. She wanted to push Clarke’s hands away from her stomach because it hurt it hurt it hurt but a part of her stopped because Clarke was a healer and was _trying_ to make the bleeding stop.

The blue eyes were terrified and Lexa hated the pain that flashed right through her body and didn’t help her concentrate.

“Clarke…”

“Just stay with me, alright? Just lay still. Lay still”.

Lexa did, she _did_ , but she also knew that this was the time. She found it fitting. She had brought the clans together, she had tried to change her people’s bloodied and deadly culture. She had help ease Clarke’s monsters, in a way, the ghosts of the Mountain. Lexa thought it was a fitting time for her spirit to move on, she had done her part, Aden or Silla or even Kos would do theirs, in her steps.

“…stay with me”.

She wanted to, oh, how she wanted to. The blood bubbling up her throat stopped her from sobbing but she forced her eyes to find Clarke’s and she wondered if she would have ever been able to stop hurting this beautiful woman.

“Don’t be afraid”, she tried and then; “the next commander will protect you”.

And then, in her last moments, Clarke opted to completely break her heart before it finally stopped; “I don’t want the next commander. I want you”.

Lexa didn’t think there could be a most unfitted time for her to die. A more unfitted time for her hands to not be able to move up and frame the woman’s beautiful face and pull her closer.

She made Titus vow to protect Clarke. She had made the Nightbloods vow to protect Clarke’s family and her people. She had vowed to protect Clarke herself until her last moments. She wished she had more time just to… just to make sure…

“ _Ai gonplei ste odon_ ”.

“No. I won’t accept that”.

Lexa wished to the spirits of the world to make this agony stop, let her rest in peace. But maybe the spirits gifted her of Clarke being there on her side, even if the blonde woman’s stubborn nature made the whole thing a bit more difficult. She smiled and it hurt but Clarke was so beautiful in the light of the candles and Lexa… Lexa would let out her last breath and her blue eyes would be the last thing she’d see, Clarke’s scent on the pillows under her head being the last thing she’d smell.

“You were right, Clarke. Life is about more than just surviving”.

And for some brief moments, Lexa had lived just like she had always wanted.

The world in front of her eyes was blurring now. She felt colder, number, with each moment that passed and she knew it was time. She was ready. Lexa was ready.

But she didn’t want it.

She didn’t _want_ it.

Not yet.

Please, not yet.

Clarke’s voice smoothed the panic that started to bubble in her chest, it eased the fear that settled in her limps and mind, lightened the weight that dropped on her shoulders.

_In peace, may you leave the shore,  
In love, may you find the next,  
Safe passage on your travels,  
Until our final journey on the ground,  
May we meet again._

Lexa wanted to sob but she was numb but then, Clarke’s lips were pressing against her and Lexa forced herself to _hold on hold on she wanted to feel this she wanted to be awake for this just for a second more._

She let her last breath in Clarke’s lips.

* * *

She saw flashes. Flashes of lives that weren’t hers, flashes of lives of another world and a time she didn’t recognized. There were people; kind, gentle people who had lived and had died a million times. Lexa dreamed of them and felt them and lived with them and died with them and felt their pain and loneliness and agony. She felt bones that weren’t hers crack and break and be pierced back together and she saw faces looking back at her, hugging her, protecting her.

Lexa gasped and jolted up on the table she was placed on, fabric wrapping around her and a scent circling her and she was hurting and she was more afraid than she had ever felt. She was naked and she smelled of burned wax and herbs and tea and Lexa took a breath to calm her heart, to calm her terror. She placed a hand on her stomach, expecting a jolt of pain, but she found nothing. She found smooth skin and no scar, no wound.

There was a bullet on the table next to her bare thigh. Shaking fingers picked it up, the dry blood on it making her stomach roll.

They had woken up a million times next to the bullets and blades and weapons that had killed them. Lexa had dreamt of blood and pain and cracked bones, she had seen them rise on steady feet and facing their killer, she’d seen them taking their revenge for their own death. Over and over and over.

Lexa pulled the fabric away from her body and she leaned over the table. She threw up again and again and again and then she took a look around, at the way the throne room was decorated and she threw up again because this was her funeral, this was the ritual just before the conclave, when the Nightbloods asked the guidance of the Flame. Lexa shuddered and stumbled to fall away from the table, from her _deathbed,_ and she stumbled on the floor, weak knees shaking, fist tightening around the bullet of the _Skaikru_ weapon.

There were no guards in the room. _Why would they be?_ She shook and gasped and she had been dead, she had been dead, she had been dead and she was alive now, she was breathing now but she had died a million times, in a million different worlds.

Lexa stumbled towards her throne, tripped on the stairs but managed to place a hand on the smooth wood, the wood she had spent so much time touching and gripping and caressing. She gripped at the wood and shook and let out a sob. She should have been dead, she should have been dead, she should have been dead.

Death was supposed to take her spirit and help it move on, to another body and to another life and… Lexa froze, her hand shooting at the back of her neck, gripping at the… there was no scar there. Only smooth skin. And it was wrong, it was wrong and she froze in panic and fear and horror, she froze and she trembled.

The spirit of the commanders had rejected her. It had rejected her and it hadn’t let her pass to another life and world, it hadn’t let her have a peaceful death and a new life. It had rejected her with a painful death and an even more painful awakening. It hadn’t let her move on, it had thrusted her back into the same body and the same name and the same _life_ but at the same time it’d stripped everything from her. She’d betrayed the spirits of the commanders and their legacy and they’d spat her out yet again for… for what? _For what?!_

Lexa curled up in the foot of the commander’s throne, she gripped the bullet which had killed her and she sobbed for the first time in so many years. She did not know how long she was curled up there, on the seat of her failed legacy, on the seat she had no right to sit again, to touch, to even breathe close to. The spirit had rejected her and she had failed, she had failed, she had failed.

A hand landed on her shoulder and Lexa jerked, violently. There was a man kneeling next to her and she hadn’t heard him coming, she hadn’t had her guard up and he’d approached way to close. She didn’t care because what was the point, what was the point to care if he killed her? She’d died a million times with him and what was one more time and–

She had died a million times _with_ _him_.

“ _I am not going to hurt you, Lexa_ ”.

He spoke _Trigedasleng_ but the accent was foreign. His eyes were kind and familiar and Lexa shook and shook and shook and she shouldn’t show such weakness in front of her warriors. But he wasn’t just a warrior, sure, he wore the armor of _Trichina_ and his dark blue war paint showed his clan but he wasn’t just a warrior. Lexa had seen him in her dreams, wearing the clothes of the Sky People, talking in languages she’d never heard before, dying and dying and dying and standing up again and again and again.

“I’ve seen you…” she spoke in _Gonasleng_ because she had dreamed of him speaking it to people around him, to his family. “I’ve seen you…”

“Call me Joe”, he carefully said and reached out to her, holding clothes. “ _Heda,_ we need to get you to safety”.

He looked young but he carried a soul so old and Lexa didn’t know if she should trust him, didn’t know if she should accept his help. Her brain stopped for a moment.

“I’m not _Heda_ ”, she whispered and his eyes grew softer. “ _The Spirit has rejected me. I am nothing now. You should… You should c-call the guards…I have to face the judgement the Flame offered to the people for my betrayal. I failed the Spirit…”_

“Lexa”, he called her name with ease. None of her warriors had ever called her of her given name like this, like they were family. One of his hands reached up and adjusted the hood of his armor on his head, pulling it farther down over his face. “Your fight is not over. There are a lot of things we need to discuss, a lot of things to explore. You need to come with me, our people are waiting”.

“Our people?”

“You saw us in your sleep, yes?”

“I saw… I… I saw deaths but you are not the past commanders”.

“No”, he smiled softly, nudged his hand forwards, holding the clothes to her. “We’re something entirely different. And you are one of us now, one of the undead”.

She froze and met grey eyes and a gentle smile. “I…”

 _“Heda Leksa. Leksa, beja._ They are waiting for us”.

She nodded and took her clothes and forced the heavy numbness off of her limbs. A moment later, she was dressed in _Trichina_ armor and Joe was in front of her and moving to the balcony rather than the floor and oh…

They were not supposed to be seen.

She wasn’t supposed to be seen by her people.

Joe was looking down over the railing and handed to her a pair of gloves, gripped at a long rope that was tied on the edge with a hook. She followed him, numb and quiet, trying not to look over the sleeping city underneath her feet. The night was dark and they climbed down the tower without any trouble, no one seeing them slip to the ground.

There were two shadows waiting for them in the bottom; a man and a woman, both of them having blue war paint on their unscarred faces. They looked around her age but at the same time they seemed much older, holding themselves up like they held the secrets of the world.

“Any trouble?” the man whispered, his hand reaching out and brushing down Joe’s arm. They shared a private quick look and Lexa felt numb for a moment, eyes looking up at her tower, at the lighted up rooms.

“No guards”.

“Good”.

“Lexa?” She managed not to jolt again at the sound of her name, turning to find the woman looking at her with wide brown eyes. She smiled, “Hi, it is an honor to meet you at last. I’m Nile. This is Nicky”.

Lexa nodded and she was lost. She needed to sit down because she had been dead and now she was sneaking out of Polis, out of her home. Lexa needed to take a seat because she’d seen them in her dreams but they were not past commanders. Lexa opted to be honest with them, knowing it was the only way to get some answers.

“I don’t understand”, she mumbled and forced her back to straighten up and it had been too long since the last time she was in simple armor. “Death came for my spirit but then, left my soul behind… I don’t understand”.

The three exchanged looks and it seemed like they talked with their gazes. The three looked around and scooted closer to the dark thick shadow of the tower, making her follow their lead. The ducked in a narrow street across the tower and they slowly sat there against the walls, looking at her with their kind eyes.

Joe scooted closer and sat right in front of Lexa, an understanding smile on his lips. He scratched softly at his short beard and adjusted the collar of his armor. His hand was around a case holding a sword, which wasn’t tied on his belt like his comrades’. She froze as he lifted his hand and pointed at the hood that lied on the back of her neck.

“You should put it over your head, commander”, he whispered and she shuddered at the care he unapologetically showed. “People will recognize you and we don’t want that just yet”.

She blinked and blinked and blinked and did as told, pulling the hood over her head and wrapping herself in the warmth the clothes provided. “I don’t understand”, she said again and Nicky nodded, his eyes softening even more.

His _Trigedasleng_ was better than his comrade’s. His tongue was smoother around a gentle wave of familiar words. “ _Heda, everyone dies. You know this. But some… some people just don’t… at least, not right away. They come back for many times, before death catches up to them. We, and now you, are this kind of people_ ”.

“Here, look”, Nile said and she scooted closer as well. She kept some distance from her but she leaned forwards, taking a blade out of her belt very, very slowly. Lexa’s body tensed at the sight of the knife but Nile lowered her head and kept the blade inwards, towards herself. Lexa didn’t move, didn’t breathe, when she lifted her other arm, cut across her own skin, pressing the sharp blade deep and fast and the woman hissed in pain as red blood slipped out of the slice.

It took a second and then Lexa chocked as she watched the skin pierce back together and closing completely, not leaving a scar behind.

“ _How…_ ” she whimpered and closed her eyes and pressed her back on the brick wall behind her, rubbing at her burning eyes. Bile gathered at the back of her throat.

“It will take a while to get used to it”, Joe tilted his head and the _understanding_ was overwhelming. Lexa shuddered. “There are six of us. Seven; with you”.

“I am…” she swallowed hard. She wasn’t the commander anymore. “I cannot leave”.

Nicky’s eyes flickered on her and they all hesitated. “Lexa…”

She rubbed at her forehead. She could focus on one thing she knew for sure, she’d focus on her; she’d focus on _her_ , the only thing still feeling right in her head. “There is someone”.

“Commander…”

“The spirit rejected me”.

“No, listen, Lexa…”

“I need to face my people’s judgement”.

Joe was shaking his head before she even finished her sentence. “Even if you do, it won’t change who you are now. _What_ you are now. You are not mortal and their judgement will be death and death cannot touch you. Not for many centuries”.

She chocked again. “Centuries?”

“We saw the world collapse and burn. We were there and we burned with it and we rose again from the ashes”, Nicky whispered and Nile was nodding along with sorrow in her gaze. “We were right there when the first commander fell from the sky, when the great-grandparents of your people rebuild civilization”.

“We were here long before _Praimfaya_ ”, Nile added softly and Lexa shook her head, feeling a headache growing and throbbing against her forehead. “And long before what you call the Old World came to be what it was. Our oldest… she has been alive for nearly six thousand years, she saw the world build and collapse more than once”.

Lexa jolted because this number… this number was a lot. “I cannot die?”

Nile’s headshake was gentle. “No, not yet, not for a long time”.

Lexa shut her eyes. “I need to find Clarke”.

“We should leave, _Heda_ ”.

She found her voice, stilled her tone, rolled her shoulders forwards. She might not be _Heda_ but, if anything they were saying was true, then Lexa still held every single of the commander’s pillars. “I am not leaving without her”.

* * *

There was a commotion. The commander’s body was stolen, the commander’s body was missing and the ritual could not continue, the conclave could not begin just yet. For once, Lexa was glad of her people’s traditions.

It had taken a while to convince the three warriors in front of her and Lexa was very much shaken because it’d been years since she had needed to _convince_ someone to follow her lead and actions without questions. They were so very different from her and the warriors she knew of, they were a group that had lived hundreds of years by each other’s side. Grief sliced at her gut at the sight of them moving like a dance, like they had each other’s backs; she thought of Anya and Lexa had mourned for her lost old friend and mentor but she missed her, she missed her, she missed her.

Clarke had fled Polis. Lexa heard the mumbles of her warriors and the people, heard their grief for _Heda Leksa_ , heard the rumors of the Nightblood coming from _Azgeda_ , brought in Polis by King Roan. And then, at the break of dawn, the victory horn rang over Polis and then over the forest and Lexa had frozen in the shadows of the alley they were hidden in because the conclave hadn’t taken place.

The mumbles started again –shock and panic and horror– and the Nightbloods had been murdered in their sleep by the new commander, by _Ontari kom Azgeda_. She’d stayed and she’d heard the hatred in her people’s voices and she’d gritted her teeth, whished for _jus drein jus daun_ because Aden had been beheaded just like Costia had been and Lexa’s hatred of this clan was way to personal but she was not commander anymore. She allowed herself to finally feel the hatred in its true extend.

Clarke had fled Polis for Arkadia and so Lexa didn’t have another reason to convince the three immortal warriors to stay. She sent an oath to the spirits of the trees that she’d find Clarke again, when she managed to wrap her mind around this situation she’d found herself in. Clarke would be safe with her people or so Lexa hoped. She casted a last long look at her tower, at her home, at her city and she slowly slipped behind Nicky and Joe in the shadows of the forest, following Nile, her careful strut.

There was a man waiting for them with four horses behind him and he had smiled at them as they approached and he had bowed to Lexa with a teasing smirk and he had called himself Booker and he called her just Lexa and for a moment, she felt lighter…

The rode fast through the woods and they had urged her to keep the hood over her head because people would get a heart attack –whatever that meant– if they saw her alive and well and feeing Polis. They had joked about the _mighty Heda_ at being in the loss of words, with a tone so light and playful that had indeed wiped every word from her mind. She had growled out a warning at the _disrespect_ because, spirits help her, she was still their commander in a way and they– they kept teasing her and she tried to shake off the urge to relax and let these warriors guide her.

They took her to _Trichina_ territory, the clan of the Glowing Forest. They travelled to a village just outside of the clan’s capital and Lexa sighed quietly as the trees changed around her, their soft blue color of the leaves and plants turning into a glowing grey as the sun climbed up the sky. Lexa always had a soft weak spot for this clan and the beauty of their lands.

They weren’t truly _Trichina,_ they told her. They didn’t truly have a clan. In the years after _Praimfaya,_ they travelled all over North America, they told her, trying to find what and who had survived the nuclear war, the told her. There was no safe way to pass the great sea to the land on the other side and they had been stuck here, took a role at helping the Elders rebuild the world. Every couple of years, they travelled to other places, away from the people who had known them, settling in with new ones. Until now, they’d travelled beyond the dead zone and had resided with _Floukru_ and _Azgeda_ and _Trichina_. Andy, they said, loved the glowing forest.

Lexa didn’t understand half of the places and the names they said and she wished for Becca’s guiding voice in her mind. She had caressed the back of her neck, finding no scar placed there and she needed to take a second because these people were _old_.

“You will be here when the people you know of grow old and pass away. You will be here when their children and then their grandchildren and their great-grandchildren grow and pass away”, Booker had said to her, so gentle and calm as if he was trying to ease her with his voice, his kind eyes taking her shock and her pain as if he knew. “You will live for years and never age, never grow with your family, until one day, the universe or the destiny will decide it is your time to pass away as well”.

Lexa had gripped the reigns of her horse tighter and she had clenched her jaw and maybe this was her judgement. She’d never die, she’d never rest, she’d always fight.

Her mind took a stop and she met his blue stormy eyes. “I have no family”.

Booker smiled, pained and gentle. “Maybe that’s for the better”.

Nile reached over and hit the back of his head with her hand. “Shut up”, she growled and then, she turned to Lexa. “We are going to be your family now”.

Lexa managed not to stumble at the seriousness of the words.

Because she had been the commander, they would not be able to stay in a clan, she would be recognized and it wasn’t safe. Lexa understood. They’d all the time in the universe and they would travel the world again, they said. Lexa did not understand.

She couldn’t leave. Not her people, not the clans, not Clarke. She couldn’t leave just yet, not when there was a war clouding the skies above them and threatened to kill so many of her people. She wasn’t the commander anymore, Lexa was finally freed of the crushing duty, but her love and her need to protect as many as possible were written in her mind and still living soul. A war with the Sky People would cause many deaths and losses and she couldn’t bear to walk away. They could go, of course, they could continue living on their own and she’d walk away to find Clarke, they would figure it out.

Nile and Joe refused, had snarled at her for even thinking they would walk away now they had found one more like them. Booker and Nicky took a moment and then they refused as well. She was one of them now and Lexa didn’t understand the care these strange warriors were showing to her on such a personal level.

Outside the village, two women waited for them, near two horses. They caught them smiling at one another. Lexa took a moment to soak in the pure affection they were giving so openly to each other and she sighed, feeling so very _young_ around them.

Andy and Quynh they called themselves and their wide eyes were lightly harder than their comrades’ but they still held softness. Andy nodded with some of the usual respect the warriors showed her and Lexa had a vague feeling they’d met before but couldn’t remember the time. Quynh was way more reversed looking out of place but at the same time, like she couldn’t possibly be anywhere else. Quynh had darkness inside her, a shadow of torture in her eyes and a fearless commanding aura wrapped around her and Lexa straightened her back, watching her closely, finding a warning and danger in her sharp gaze. Lexa remembered salt water and burning lungs and a desperation as deep and cold as the bottom of the sea.

Lexa felt like a child as she told them her plans of staying, their eyes judging her in ways her warriors never dared to. Nile stood by her side and growled at both Andy and Quynh when they shook their heads and then Joe and Nicky also joined and it took a few words in a language Lexa had never heard before and both women were cracking and nodding slowly. Lexa dared to place a thankful hand on Joe’s shoulder and the man smiled with such softness at her that Lexa felt like sobbing.

Arkadia was emptied from people, abandoned under the sun and the wind and the rain, _Skaikru_ having travelled all the way to Polis. Lexa watched her people fall under the influence of a ghost, of some _tech_ she did not and could not understand but her resent companions talked on and on and on about. She sat by Quynh’s side and the other woman was also lost in the argument happening in front of them.

Lexa stiffened when Quynh lowered her head on her shoulder and they were never close, Quynh was always a bit separated from the group and Lexa had pieces of a story of her hurting and seeking revenge from the woman she loved so deeply but who had abandoned her in the bottom of the sea. Lexa had felt Quynh’s agony and desperation a few nights ago and she had always kept her distance, had kept her voice soft when she addressed the older woman, comforting and as bare as possible from the shock of her new reality and situation. Quynh lowered her head on Lexa’s shoulder and had whispered a _thank you_ out of thin air and Lexa had stayed so still and unmoving that the other woman had pocked her on the side to have her lungs moving again.

The five others had lived in a time neither Lexa nor Quynh had seen or gotten used to. _Praimfaya_ had found Quynh shaking off her need to hurt as much as she’d been hurt, had found Quynh’s mind easing and opening to learn the new world humanity had built. And as soon as she was finding a place, it all came burning down and they were thrust into a world of ash and destruction and Quynh’s comrades had been left unbalanced by the sudden and huge change. They had lived a million lives but they’d never stood alone without the rest of humanity wrapping around them. There was a very silent and unspoken understanding between them, growing and growing with each unknown word the five people in front of them spoke.

Lexa knew Quynh had a gentle heart under her hardened soul. Quynh knew Lexa could care of another soul as selflessly as she once cared for Andromache.

“Tell me of Clarke, _Heda_ ”, Quynh whispered and Lexa sighed and she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse any mistakes, English is not my first language.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke dies. Then, she wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally... pleased with this? I think?

Clarke didn’t understand why her eyes felt so heavy. She coughed and felt a pang in her chest, a scratching knot of knives longed into her lungs. Her head throbbed slow and heavy, along with the quick but uneven beat of her heart.

She was so tired…

There were voices around her.

There was crying and shouting and Clarke forced her eyes open, chocking lightly as the air rushed into her body with too much force. She blinked at the agonizing light that hit her orbs and she groaned –soft and pained and exhausted. Her stomach was rolling gently in her gut and she thought she’d throw up.

Her mother’s voice came to her ears and she felt lightheaded. “ _Clarke_ …?”

She tried to answer. Her tongue was unmoving and her head was hurting.

“ _Why isn’t she waking up? What’s wrong_?”

“ _I don’t know_!”

“ _Murphy! Keep pumping her heart_!”

“ _Did you take the chip out_?”

“ _I did! Thelonious? Thelonious! What is going on?!_ ”

Clarke wanted to snap at them to _be quiet_ , to let her rest for just a bit, sooth the pain in her head for a moment and get rid of the throbbing. She tried to tell them as such but her tongue was too heavy in her dry mouth and her thoughts were slowly being ripped apart from one another, failing her for now.

“ _H-her heart… no, no, no, no”._

_“What?! What’s wrong?”_

_“Her pulse is weak. We… we are losing her”._

_“What the hell are you talking about?!”_

_“We are losing her!”_

_“This is Clarke!”_

Clarke wanted to shush them, to tell them to shut up, let her rest, but couldn’t. She wanted to drown in the numb feeling that enveloped her limbs and mind and soul and she wanted to fall onto it, sleep and just… just that… she didn’t want anything else… Clarke wanted to rest for a while.

And so she did.

And she last thought of green eyes and a trembling kiss.

* * *

Clarke dreamed and she honestly had no idea what she’d expected of death. But she never expected to dream of people she had never seen before in her life, people of a world she’d seen in history books and films and movies. People of a world which had been destroyed by radiation and ash and fire… Clarke dreamed of terrible, horrifying deaths and she dreamed of bodies falling and standing up again.

Clarke dreamed of the bottom of the sea and salt water burning down her lungs and her throat and nose and burned her eyes and chocked her chocked her chocked her. Clarke dreamed of her mind filling with agony and crazed thoughts and a breathless promise that was given to her and it was broken. She dreamed of fury and the ocean and felt her lungs filling with water.

She dreamed of desperation and loneliness and she watched his son screaming in a language she had only vague heard before but couldn’t understand. The venom still hurt, still made her feel the pang of sadness in his soul and deep into her chest. She wanted to reach out and grab his son’s hand and ask for forgiveness and turn to his wife and hug her for one last time as she shouted curses and cried of hell.

Clarke felt the blade in her throat, slicing deep, cutting off her voice and her strength and hot blood slipped between her hands and how could blood burn? She dreamed of falling, falling, falling, falling, towards the ground and feeling fear and closure and a hint of excitement because she’d saved Andy and goddamned it, she’d jumped off of a skyscraper and she was going to fucking survive this fall and the motherfucker in her hold would fucking crush just like a twisted mind like his should.

She dreamed of a horse travelling through the woods and she dreamed of sadness and sleeping on a shore of some village in the Turkey, she dreamed of Lexa’s room and of a younger Luna she dreamed of Anya and a black woman she had never seen before but she had very gentle eyes Clarke dreamed of curly black hair _–bed head?–_ and she dreamed of a sniper rifle in her hands she dreamed of a sword cutting right through her and he snarled at this man because _why wasn’t he giving up just yet?!_ she dreamed of an axe and of a museum and a car and a helicopter and she dreamed of a computer Raven would _beg_ to have in her hands and Clarke dreamed of a bullet ripping right through her stomach to get stuck there and she dreamed of a lab and shaky hands and the feelings of betrayal and determination and fear and anger.

Clarke jerked awake just as a man pressed a hot gun in her mouth _–Nicky’s mouth–_ and pulled the trigger.

“Fucking hell!”

Clarke took in a deep breath and her hand jumped at the back of her neck, expecting to find a scar there. But she found nothing and for a moment she wondered if it had all been a dream just like the ones she just saw. Clarke shuddered and she was on a very uncomfortable bare table and she shuddered again, because goddamn she was _cold_ and dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt.

 _What was she_ wearing _? Fucking pajamas?_

“Clarke?!” Her name was broken as it left her friend’s mouth, disbelief and horror in his heavy voice.

She turned to see Bellamy’s face draining from color and Clarke frowned as her head swam. Her muscles were locked very tight, she wanted some water to get rid of the scratching in her throat and she needed some warm clothes because the room was _freezing_.

The reminders of her dreams came right back and her soul tightened at the pain of them and if her mind could make up these twisted images then she really was the commander of death, wasn’t she? Because fucking great, she was imagining deaths now and dreamed of broken bones and bullets and ancient weapons. Twisted dreams were the last thing she needed.

And yet, there was this _feeling_ in her gut, telling her the dreams had been real once.

“Bellamy”, she tried to talk, her voice coming out cracking and she thought of salt water and the bottom of the ocean. She shuddered.

“How –How is this possible?”

“What is?”

He was pressed against the wall and he looked shocked and horrified and looking at her as if she was some kind of ghost and Clarke hesitated. She reached to the back of her neck and caressed the smooth skin there. _There was not even a hint of a wound or…_

Her thoughts were interrupted by shouting arguments and she blinked up at Bellamy waiting for him to inform her what the hell was going on again but he just stared and stared and stared and it didn’t help ease the panic boiling in her gut.

“Bella– holy _mother_ of _God_!”

Octavia’s eyes were puffy and red but her face was hardened by tough lines and she stood as if she carried all the pain in the world and she stared at Clarke like she was a demon that had crawled out of hell. Clarke tried not to let the confusion and worry take a hold of her mind. She swung her legs off of the table and stood on steady knees and she came face to face with Octavia’s sharpened sword.

“Huh, okay?”

“How is this possible?” Octavia snapped, echoing her brother’s words and Clarke felt her stomach dropping. She remembered salt water and a bullet in her stomach and a sword cutting right through her gut. “How is it possible, Bellamy?!”

“I don’t know!”

“What are you talking about?” Clarke growled and the sword pressed closer and she was very much feeling angry because the sounds on the streets were getting louder and the world was ending in six months and Octavia had her goddamned sword at her throat with no fucking reason.

“You were dead”, Octavia snarled but the words broke lightly. “You were _dead_ for many fucking hours, Clarke. I checked you myself, I…”

“I’m obviously very much breathing”. Clarke thought of green eyes and she grabbed the blade of Octavia’s sword, lowering it away from her throat, stilling her gaze. The siblings’ eyes went round and Octavia rushed to pull the sword away, eyeing the red blood dripping from Clarke’s hand. The blonde didn’t mind the stinking pain, using it to focus her mind. “What is going on?”

“ALIE is gone”, Octavia straightened her back and her eyes darkened. “But _Azgeda_ is here”. She turned to Bellamy. “Your friend, Echo, is picking up fights with everyone. The ambassadors are the only ones pulling a stop to them taking a hold of Polis and the damned throne. They want the Flame”.

The Flame, the Flame, the Flame, where was it, where was it, where was it. Clarke felt a jolt of panic as she patted down the simple clothes she wore, the two pockets of her pants painfully empty. A knot settled in her throat and she looked around the room to find the commander’s clothes she wore before, hoping that the chip would be right there. Her mind flashed with green eyes and her memories filled with a tiny smirk and two sharpened swords and flawless black war paint and the pain of the bullet in her stomach.

Clarke looked around the bare room of the tower and spotted the commander’s coat she'd been wearing when she… passed out. She shuddered at the thought and reached to grab it, shaking off the feeling of the Blake siblings staring. Obviously, she was alive. They were wrong, they didn’t check it through. Switching off the City of Light would… she was been thrown out and it… it hadn’t been smooth, right? Of course, she’d passed out and they had seen a lot of death so they had… assumed…

She focused on the shouts and she pulled on the coat, sheltering her body from the cold fucking air of the evening and she shot another look at her two frozen friends, letting a huff as she pushed the doors open and the two guards jolted as they stood outside the door and their eyes widened with horror. So that was probably going to be a thing now.

Clarke clenched her jaw and moved past them, glad to finally see the Blake siblings follow at last. She travelled down the stairs, passing by people that froze as soon as they saw her and she all but growled at them to move, ignoring the freezing fingers of worry that wrapped around her heart and squeezed.

She didn’t want to be looked at as if she was death itself.

She didn’t want to cause this fear in their eyes.

There were people all around the foot of the tower, there were mournful cries and heartbreaking wails of agony being echoed through the capital and Clarke clenched her jaw because she had been the one to shut off the City of Light, she was the one giving them back their pain. The tiles were washed off the blood and gore and the wounded were taken care off and the dead were gathered and she wondered how long she had been… out.

There were many things they needed to talk about; ALIE, the radiation, Lexa in the City of Light. The coalition and Ice Nation and _how would she tell to these people they were going to die in six months after everything they had been through?_ Clarke shuddered at the realization of the problems but she shook her head, took in a deep breath and she ducked outside in the fading sunlight. They would find a way. They always did.

Every sound stopped as soon as she was seen and _what in the floating hell was going on with everyone staring at her when she was obviously fine?_

The shouting started as soon as she finished her thoughts and the terror she saw in the people’s eyes was too much to handle.

“The Commander of Death is an awakened soul!”

“ _Kill her_!" someone screeched out. “She will haunt us if we don’t!”

“ _Wanheda_ came back as a Spirit!” someone cried out and before she had time to frown, an arrow flew right through the air and longed deep in her chest.

Clarke stumbled, gasping, coughing hot blood and a hand was wrapping around her upper arm to keep her on her feet and a battled cry was heard from next to her as Octavia lunged at the _Azgeda_ warrior who had shot her and _floating hell,_ the arrow hurt like a bitch and she wasn’t dying. She was not _dying_.

She had an _arrow_ in her _chest_ and she _was not_ dying.

This was not the first time she felt the pain of an arrow longed in her chest; she had dreamed of it happening before –not to her, but to someone, but she had felt them dying by this.

Okay, maybe she was dying as well. The shapes in front of her eyes were blurring, a wave of numbness was passing down her body and her mind was quietening for a long second and then she was collapsing against Bellamy’s chest and taking in a last pained breath. The last thing she thought of was that there was no explanation of why it had taken this long.

Her mind flashed with images again. She saw hoods and grey war paint and horses racing through the trees, she saw a village and glowing leaves and plants and she heard soothing voices telling her the flame hadn't regretted her, wasn't punishing her. She heard light voices and laugher and teasing and she saw double swords and a bow and arrow and an axe with circular blades dripping with red blood.

A moment later, Clarke inhaled painfully and groaned at the slicing pain cutting right through her chest and her mother was above her, jerking away as soon as Clarke’s eyes shoot open.

“F-Fuck”, Clarke mumbled and clenched her jaw.

“Clarke?!”

“ _Holy shit_ ”.

“Take this thing out of me”, she snapped at someone, tightening her hold into fists. Panic started to rise from her gut because she wasn’t dead she wasn't dead what w _as going on?_

“H-How…”

“I don’t fucking _know_ , Bellamy, take the arrow out, it hurts like a bitch”.

He did as told and she cried out softly at the ripping of the wood and the blade and why was there fighting a few feet away? Clarke whimpered as her mother’s shaky hands pressed on the wound and she hissed as fingers got in the way of the ripped skin and muscle trying to pierce itself back together. They all froze and stared and Clarke felt lightheaded.

Soon, there was only smooth skin in the place the arrow had torn through, a mix of red and black blood drying in the place. But there was no wound, not even a scar. The hole of her T-shirt stared back mockingly and Clarke shuddered and her hands started trembling.

“She is not dying!” a cry echoed and the commotion came to a stop and Clarke only took a moment to look up at fearful eyes turning angered and she obviously needed to get the fucking hell out of there because weapons were turning toward her.

Bellamy was on his feet in front of her as she sat up on the tiles next to her mother, and his face was still pale and his eyes were still wild, but he stood tall and strong and rose his assault rifle, daring anyone to make a move.

Echo looked wilder as she stepped closer, eyes on Clarke. “Step aside, Bellamy”.

“Tell your people to back down”.

Echo was trembling and Clarke scooted back, pulling her mother to the side to have her stand behind her. Kane had somehow appeared next to her and he was staring straight through her soul but Clarke didn’t spare him another gaze, blue eyes snapping everywhere to find an exit, to find a way to get the hell away from the threatening grounders that glared at her with terror and mania.

“She’s a spirit coming back to life to haunt us”, Echo said slowly to Bellamy, her eyes burning on Clarke. “The spirit of the commander of death. This has nothing to do with the coalition and the flame. The dead must stay dead”.

The ambassadors came to stand next to her, their previous argument about the ruling of Polis forgotten for a moment and Clarke cursed the ground’s bloody traditions.

Maybe she wasn’t the only one cursing because someone broke through the shadows and placed herself right in the middle of Bellamy and Echo and Clarke had not seen this woman before but she seemed to be a couple of years older than her and looking so familiar and _Clarke had seen this woman before_.

In her dreams.

Her tone was light and mocking and she stood straight and ready to fight. Her sword was out and it looked used and she wore simple armor and had war paint drying on her dark skin, long black hair pulled back in uncountable braids.

“Are you seriously going to anger the spirit of _Wanheda_?” she growled but there was a mocking smirk on her lips, as if she was enjoying herself. “Are you seriously going to attack the soul of the commander of death and dishonor her legacy? Is _Azgeda_ going to enrage her spirit?”

Alright, this was a thing and this woman was trying to help and Clarke’s mind span with questions. Without thinking, her hand caressed her own throat remembering the blade cutting there, remembering the blood spilling and spilling and spilling.

Echo mumbled something that sounded like a prayer.

Another figure stepped forwards, a man this time, and Clarke’s mind came up with a name and images of a sword ripping through him. She remembered his hands being hers and holding a rifle, waiting and waiting and waiting before shooting one shot and taking down two. _Nicolo,_ she remembered and she took a look around to find his companion, another man that had been always there by his side since the very beginning.

“Why is _Trichina_ stepping forwards?” Echo took a threatening step forwards and Clarke pushed Abby further behind her as bows rose.

“Our clan is irrelevant”, Nicky answered patiently, his voice softened but his eyes alert. “We are mainly here because we are spotting a problem to your… methods”.

Suddenly someone was right next to Clarke and here he was; Nicky’s companion. She hadn’t seen him coming and she looked up to meet brown warm eyes looking at her, a smile lazily painting on his face. He scratched at his short beard and shot her a wink and Clarke froze at the playful gesture, suddenly feeling small and young and like she was in some very deep shit.

“You will allow a cursed soul to walk? To haunt our lands and our world?”

“Humanity isn’t changing at all, is it?” a new voice said and Clarke turned to see _her_ standing a few steps behind Clarke, next to the eldest. Clarke met brown eyes and shuddered, remembering salt water and burning pain filling her lungs.

“I am afraid not, my love”, Andromache whispered, leaning her weight on her old weapon, the circular blades digging into the hard ground.

Echo looked like she was shaking. “ _The dead must stay dead_ ”.

“ _She is a new spirit_ ”, Nicky switched to _Trigedasleng_ effortlessly. “ _She doesn’t have her full power and yet, knowing her capabilities as both an awakened soul and the commander of death, you are opting to anger her, Azgeda. She’s already proved her immortality_ ”.

Echo snarled at him and Nile –her name was Nile and Clarke remembered– took a step forwards, a warning on her face.

And hold on, hold on, hold on a _fucking_ second.

_Immortality?_

“Oh, float me…” Clarke mumbled and Abby’s hold on her arm tightened impossibly hard. What the hell was going on?

“What do you suggest we do, _Trichina_? Because we have some very insolated caves she can spend her eternity in”.

Nicky seemed to hold his anger. Bellamy not so much.

He took a step forwards and glared at Echo as if he wanted to burn her with his eyes. “Back off. She is standing right there”.

Bows and arrows rose and Nile growled out a sharp warning, stepping forwards and Andromache was sighing, leaning off of her weapon, sharing a look with Quynh, who lifted her own bow with an empty gaze in her eyes and a mindless smirk on her lips. Joe quietly coughed next to Clarke, rubbed at his nose and lazily took out his double swords.

“We are going to protect this soul”, Nicky told Echo, patient and unfazed. “We don’t want to have an angered immortal _Wanheda_ walking our lands”.

Smart one this Nicky but Clarke was standing right there and wanted some answers.

“ _Wanheda_ cannot be allowed…”

 _Wanheda_ was standing right fucking _there_ and this wasn’t a floating court to sentence her fate. She was about to step forwards to tell them she wasn’t a damned spirit and they needed to be focusing on other more important things, like the end of the world, when a familiar voice sounded and Clarke thought she just died again because her heart fucking stopped and her body was left unbalanced.

“Stand down!”

“I…” Echo was backing away, her dark eyes wide and unsure and horrified. Swords were dropped and people were backing away with terror in their gazes and Clarke was awed of the lives the grounders had built but at time, she could not understand them at all.

“Stand down, _Azgeda_ , do not make me repeat myself”, the commanding voice came again and Clarke’s knees did shook this time. Joe was looking at her and had a hand on her shoulder, keeping her up, smirking lightly -knowingly.

Clarke turned and there she stood. Lexa wore simple armor and her war paint was a dark grey color but the pattern was the same. She was covered with dirt and mud and her hair was pulled back in simpler braids, a hood nestled in the back of her neck. Her sword was out and the blade was dripping with fresh red blood and she looked so very feral and so very alive and beautiful and Clarke finally felt her knees bending.

She was alive. She was breathing. Her eyes shinned with life and anger and she was so very beautiful as she stood in the light of the sunset looking ready for battle.

Figures; an arrow in her lung couldn’t keep her down and a look at Lexa breathing a few steps away almost had her collapsing.

 _“This is the soul of your commander talking, warriors!”_ Nile snapped to the people around and she lifted her head as she swung her own sword in an experienced way that spoke out a threat. They listened to the words and half of the gathered crowd dropped on their knees.

“How…” Echo was backing away, crazed eyes shifting from Lexa to Clarke. “Two…”

“This is a warning!” one of Echo’s warriors grabbed the back of her coat and dragged her back. “The souls of _Heda_ and _Wanheda_ standing together; this is a warning”.

Clarke had watched her die slowly. She had pressed her hands on Lexa’s bleeding stomach and she had rubbed at her fingers for hours to get rid of the sight of the black blood soaking her skin. She hadn’t mourn, she hadn’t grieved, as much as she had wished to, she had buried her pain somewhere deep in her chest and she had busied herself with saving her people, the chip being her only comfort.

Lexa stalked closer to Echo and everyone was backing away. At last, Echo seemed to think about it –or she was simply terrified– and opted to lower herself on her knees in front of Lexa, her army following right away and Clarke shuddered and she was so very glad for Joe’s hand on her shoulder.

“Was that you in the old good days, Andy?” Booker’s voice teased and Andromache laughed and Quynh smirked as they all leaned back and watched the show. Nile was smirking at the _Azgeda_ warriors, bowing before the commander and she turned to the side to look at the blonde, finding a pale face and wide eyes of the bluest color.

Yeah, no wonder Lexa swooned over this woman and had dragged them across the damn forest and across the damn sea in the past four days just to find her.

Blue eyes met green. Clarke hadn’t realized she was moving until she collided with Lexa’s body, arms wrapping around her and pulling her impossibly close. Clarke did not care of the people watching them, didn’t care of the mumbles coming from the crowd. She wrapped her arms around Lexa’s body and pressed against her, letting out a sob at the feeling of Lexa’s heart throbbing in her chest. She laughed and cried, broken and breathless, because she hadn’t mourned, she hadn’t processed, she had not let herself feel the pain of her loss and it was all now pouring out with a heartbreaking _relief_ of having her breathing again, of having her near, of having her alive.

“You are alive”.

“They say I am immortal”.

“I... I think I am too. They shot me with an arrow and I’m still alive”.

“Immortality suits you very well, Clarke”.

“What in the floating fuck have we gotten ourselves into?” Clarke laughed again because Lexa’s voice soothed everything; the weight that had settled in her chest ever since she had taken in Lexa’s last breath being lifted off and Clarke felt like she was floating, like she was in the happiest dream she'd ever dreamed of.

She hoped this was real.

She hoped this was not a dream.

If it was, it'd be the most twisted one.

“I looked for you”, Lexa whispered in her neck. “I followed every single trace you left behind and yet… I didn’t get you in time, Clarke, I felt you dying, I am so sorry”.

Clarke pulled back and there were eyes on them and she didn’t care, she didn’t care, she didn’t care. She touched the grey war paint and caressed the woman’s skin and drowned in Lexa’s green eyes. “I love you”, she said and this time it was clear and real and not said in code in some cyber space. “I love you, Lexa”.

Lexa froze and smiled and there was a huge weight missing from her shoulders and she looked so beautiful and free and Clarke couldn’t help but lean in, taking Lexa’s lips in a slow and gentle kiss –a greeting, a promise, a vow.

“I love you”, Clarke said again and Lexa took in a deep breath and there were tears in her eyes and her smile shinned with light and life and hope.

* * *

“What happens now?”

Clarke was settled next to Lexa and their hands had not been separated since Polis Center Square. They sat in the wide room in the tower, a huge table in the middle, the place most of the war meetings took place. It was untouched by ALIE, the floor clean of blood and bodies. It was just the eight of them, people Clarke had just met but felt like she knew since the beginning of times.

She felt… young among them. They did not look old but there was something they carried in their eyes and their postures and it made Clarke feel small and eighteen years old and so innocent. Lexa looked the same next to her, her shoulder curled in rather than standing straight up and her green eyes were wide and looking around the room as if she was seeing it for the first time. She looked smaller without the commanding aura Clarke had been so used at seeing around her. Her hand tightened around Lexa’s and she felt an answering squeeze.

“I guess we save the world”, Nile answered Clarke’s question and she was lying on the long wooden table, an arm under her head and one of her legs swinging to the side lazily, eyes taking in the fading drawings in the ceiling.

Clarke had told them of ALIE and the City of Light and Andy had mumbled of the sin technology was and she’d received teasing and laughter and nods from both Quynh and Lexa.

“It’s been a few years since we saved the world”, Joe said from his place on the floor and he smirked as gazes fell on him. He winked at Clarke and Lexa and they felt so very young and not in a bad way. Lexa smiled slowly. Clarke looked at them in awe.

“How many?”

“Ah, around a hundred, right, Booker?” Nicky said from his own place by the balcony. He was looking out, at the city stretching out below them, at the colors of the sunset and the clouds that peacefully travelled by. Joe felt his breath catch at his lungs at the sight of him and he smiled at the flattering in his chest. This man would never fail to make his breath stop in all the eternity they had been called to live in.

Brooker was the only one sitting in one of the wooden chairs, his fingers wrapped around a bottle of some alcohol. He nodded mindlessly at Nicky’s words and his eyes traced eagerly the bookshelves on the far side of the wide room. On the other hand, Clarke was hyperaware of every word been said.

“How old are you?”

They all chuckled and Lexa’s thumb caressed the back of her hand. They told them of times she had never learned and her own eyes drifted to the books on the shelves on the wall, wondering if she would find in them the reason of Clarke’s surprised gasps and the stiffening of the blonde’s body.

“Ancient Greece?”

Andy softly smiled and nodded and took a sip of Brooker’s drink. Nile lifted her head and glared at the other woman. “Why haven’t you shot any of them by now?”

“They are taking immortality way better than any of you ever did”.

“Hey, I was fine”, Quynh said and Andy lifted both of her eyebrows at her.

“You tried to kill yourself six times, my love, because you thought you were cursed”.

Nicky turned, a teasing glint in his grey eyes. “We were also fine”.

“You killed each other multiple times”.

“This doesn't have to do with the process of embracing immortality”.

“Doesn't it?”

Joe pointed at Lexa, making her stiffen. “Lexa did not take it well. I believe she still thinks she failed the dead commanders or something”.

“She was just fine when you brought her back to us and she is copying. But yes, you are right; Clarke is taking it better than any of you ever did”.

Clarke looked down at Lexa’s hand holding her own and she brought her other hand up to caress her small wrist without untangling their fingers. She placed her thumb over the pulse point and closed her eyes at the steady throb.

“You were there during _Praimfaya_ ”, she heard Lexa saying but she did not lift her head. The steady throb had every weight lifting from her shoulders and she shut her burning eyes, gather her senses on the end of her fingertips as the pulse knocked against them. “You think people will survive a second?”

They all stiffened and then shook their heads. Nicky pushed away from the balcony doors and came to lean on the table next to Nile, facing them. “There is banker here in Polis, where people survived before. I think… five hundred of them?”

“More I believe”.

“It doesn’t matter. They survived in there. Came back out a few years later and the first commander fell from the sky and helped them survive the radiation with the Nightblood. We stumbled over them forming the first clans, already speaking your language. _Trikru_ was the first clan we found and they took us in, asked us how we survived. We made up a story of some bunker in the south and they believed us”.

“The radiation didn’t kill you after?”

“It did. Many times as we travelled through ash and fire but soon our bodies built up their immune systems and after some years radiation didn’t bother us much until it finally stopped. We didn’t need the Nightblood like the others but we told them we ejected ourselves when they got suspicious”.

“We travelled the world”, Nile said. “We left the clans, knowing they would be there when we came back. We’d travelled the America before but never like this. Everything was gone, we didn’t find other bunkers or survivors. We thought about crossing the ocean to Europe but… there was no way”.

“This bunker here in Polis… will it hold?”

They nodded. “Yes”.

Clarke sighed and closed her eyes and let her head drop on Lexa’s shoulder. “Five hundred people are not enough”.

“We should talk with _Skaikru_. Maybe they can come up with something to save some more”, Booker said and leaned back on his chair.

“Coalition is fragile”, Lexa frowned and Clarke felt her shoulder twisting under her head. She moved to lean away but Lexa’s free hand came up and caressed her hair, gently holding her there. “I should talk to the ambassadors and King Roan. The rule falls onto him and the ambassadors, until another Nightblood is found”.

“You think they will talk to the soul of the commander?”

Lexa frowned. “I am no awakened soul”.

“You are what they think you are”, Andy shook her head, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall next to Joe. “They have set their minds, they have written their stories and legends. Anything you might say won’t change it now”.

“I shouldn’t have left”.

“If you stayed, you’d find yourself with an arrow in the heart just like Clarke”, Joe said slowly, eyes thoughtful. “And we wouldn’t have been able to do much without giving ourselves away too. They would haunt us then”.

Clarke rubbed her eyes. “We will travel to Arkadia with my people. I’ll have Bellamy talk to Roan. I think my mother might still have the flame. If we give it to him–“

Lexa shook her head and caressed her cheek. “Clarke, no, the flame should be in the hands of a Flamekeeper”.

“Why?”

Lexa frowned at the question and shook her head. Her voice was gentle. “It’s still the spirit of the commanders despite the… technology of it… For us, it’s our faith and I… I will feel better if it is held by a keeper. King Roan will understand”.

“Titus is dead. Where do we find another?”

“We will talk with Indra. She will locate her daughter, who took this path in life”.

Nile clapped her hands loudly and brought every conversation to a stop. Andy glared and Quynh lifted an eyebrow at her while Brooker leaned further down on his chair and Joe and Nicky shared a private smirk. “Alright, our dear commander, before any more political talks, I want some damned food”.

Clarke laughed at Lexa’s caught-off-guard look, seeing the commander in the loss of words at the clear directness. She couldn’t help but tighten her hold on Lexa’s hand, taking a moment to appreciate the fact that she was holding Lexa’s fucking hand and she was surrounding by the kindest people she had ever met.

Joe groaned as he pushed himself off the floor and on his feet, hands on the bricks to help his body push up. He ruffled his hair a bit and smirked at Lexa, coming to stand next to Nicky and Nile. “Any food stands you’d recommend, _Heda_?”

It took a light shove on Lexa’s shoulder to have her moving and Clarke smiled at how young she seemed without the air of command around her. Lexa blinked and shifted on her seat on the steps and mumbled something about the food stands three shops away from some woodcarving exhibition. Nile, Joe and Nicky left with a wave of chatting sounds following them and Booker stood from his seat by the table to get to the bookshelves. Clarke watched Andy and Quynh stepping closer together, Andy on Booker’s pulled out chair and Quynh popping up on the table.

Clarke turned to Lexa, finding green eyes staring at their joined hands, a shade of pink covering the sculptured cheekbones under dark grey war paint. Clarke was in love.

“Hey”, she whispered and Lexa looked up at the sound of her voice and Clarke was leaning in, pressing a gentle kiss on the commander’s lips. She felt Lexa shudder and Clarke couldn’t believe it’d been only a couple of days since… Clarke untangled their fingers to bring her hands up to cup Lexa’s face, sighing against her mouth, thumbs caressing the high cheekbones, smearing the dark grey war paint.

Lexa’s own fingers were curling around the front of her shirt, keeping her close. “I love you, Clarke”, she answered and Clarke felt a sob catch at her throat, lowering her face in Lexa’s neck, struggling to breathe probably. “I’m sorry I left”.

“It was the right thing to do…”

“You–” Lexa’s voice caught at her throat. “You died, Clarke”.

Clarke shook her head in her neck because they weren’t doing this. “So did you”.

“I wasn’t… I was rejected by the flame”.

Clarke laughed and shook her head again. “So was I”.

Lexa pulled back and a hand came up to caress her chin. Their eyes met and Clarke was in love and she was so done denying it. This was their second chance and she was in love with this woman and the ghosts of the Mountain were so very distant in her mind. “Your people…”

Clarke kissed her because, _god_ , they were immortal and Lexa needed to let go of her duties at times. At least at times like this one, when they were both shaking with so many emotions and thoughts and fears. The situation only now started to sink in to Clarke’s mind; they were _immortal_ and the end of the world was coming and they’d survive it anyway and they’d find a way to save everyone for one last time.

“We will deal with everything”, Clarke whispered against trembling lips, not able to stop herself as she recaptured them softly, feeling Lexa sigh against her. She couldn’t stop kissing Lexa. “We always do”. Lexa nodded. Clarke laughed and a sob caught at the base of her throat. “We save our people one last time. And then we will have our someday”.

Lexa closed her eyes and slacked against her, trembling hands gripping at the white T-shirt, a peaceful smile being hidden in the crook of Clarke’s neck.

They’d have their someday.

* * *

**SIX YEARS LATER**

Clarke laughed as Lexa scowled from her place on the dry dirt for the third time in the last hour, green eyes glaring up at Andy. The older woman smirked and did not move to help the other brunette up, knowing the gesture wouldn’t be appreciated. Lexa was on her feet a second later, muscles tensing as Andy fell back into an eased defense position, waiting for the old commander to strike first.

The sunlight fell on them just right, the shadows soft but the light enough to make the details of their clothes stand out. Clarke thought of getting another paper for a quick drawing of them but decided against it when she saw Joe grab his own pencil and notebook, his eyes tracing the two women in front of them, hand moving the pencil with quick light moves. Nicky caught Clarke's eye and smiled knowingly before turning back to cleaning his long sword.

“Clarke, look!” a cheery voice made her eyes roll away from the sparring and a smile stretched on her lips as Madi ran up to her, Brooker following the kid with a proud smile on his face. Clarke smirked up at her friend and he rolled his eyes at her, mumbling something in French that she didn’t understand but knew it could not be pleasant. He had tried really hard to not let himself soften for the kid they had found in the valley all alone and he’d failed miserably as soon as Madi had taken his hand in her own. The teasing hadn’t stopped.

Madi flopped on the grass next to Clarke, leaning back against the stone the blonde had popped herself against. She had a blade in her hand and Clarke watched closely at the excited smile on the girl’s lips as she gripped it in tiny hands, concentrating for a moment before throwing it in the air and catching it with a smooth move, flickering her wrist back and then forwards and sending it flying forwards, the blade digging in a log that lied a few feet away, the knife staying there.

Madi’s excited cheer was joined by her own and a happy clapping from Booker.

“Look at you, handling blades like your grumpy aunt Andromache”, Clarke teased, loud enough for Andy to hear and get distracted so Lexa could land a solid punch.

Nile burst out laughing and jumped from her spot on a high tree branch near them, stumbling as she landed and walked up to Lexa, going for a high five that had every single person but Andy laughing. The oldest woman rolled her green eyes and spit a mouthful of saliva and blood, glaring at everyone and walking up to Madi. “Let me see”.

The girl was glad to show the trick again.

Lexa lowered herself next to Clarke, content eyes turning to watch Booker and Andy and Madi laughing about something, while picking up their knives. There was sweat on the commander's forehead and over the bridge of her nose, smeared dirt on her jaw and neck, body pleasantly tired by the intense training Andy had just put her through.

“This is beautiful”, Lexa said and Clarke realized she had been so caught looking at the gorgeous woman next to her that she failed to see the green eyes dropping to the paper on Clarke’s lap. “She looks peaceful”.

Clarke nodded, not taking her eyes away from Lexa’s face. She had drawn Quynh’s face when she had first taken in their valley six years ago, looking at the trees and the colors with a softening gaze, a second before she’d closed her eyes and breathed in the scents of the plants and the clear air, a moment before Nile and Clarke and Joe had broken into relieved fits of laughter and had drown an wide and open smile on Quynh’s face. It had been the first time Clarke had seen the woman smile so free and light, the haunted look disappearing from her face.

“I will give it to her”, Clarke heard herself say and Lexa nodded slowly.

“She’ll appreciate it”, the old commander’s lips pulled up.

Clarke leaned in and kissed her softly. Six years and she still found herself unable to stop kissing Lexa every time she smiled so beautifully. Her heart gave a few pangs in her chest when Lexa’s smile widened against her lips and soon, they were laughing with happiness against one another. Six years and they were still pleasantly shocked that they were free of duties, free of burdens, surrounded by family, living in the last spot of life and nature on this land.

They had saved their people. One thousand and two hundred people in the bunker in Polis, three hundred on the Ark back up in space. Clarke couldn’t understand why they had not come down yet –maybe they were dead, maybe they never made it, maybe they were checking the radiation levels that could still be pretty high, maybe they had no fuel to get down. She had faith Raven would find a way.

It had taken a while for Clarke’s body to get used to the radiation, Lexa’s night blood helping the process of her body building up her immune system against the lingering traces of radiation hovering in the air. They didn’t know if it was safe for the people to come down and up, so they had stopped their debates about digging the ruins of Polis to get to the bunker’s entrance. Clarke had a feeling their six friends had been partly glad they didn’t have to face the people, still worried of being strapped down and cut open for some medicine or cure for the radiation.

Four years later and Lexa had stopped passing and wondering of ways to save her people. One year later, Clarke had stopped losing herself staring at the sky, hoping for a sign of Raven and Bellamy and her mom.

Madi’s unexpected presence in their lives helped a lot.

They understood; immortality was both a gift and some kind of curse. Their people would die. Clarke would watch her mom grow older and older and Clarke would stay the same, she would watch Bellamy and Raven and Octavia grow and change and build lives and Clarke would watch and watch until time would take them away as well. Lexa would watch her people grow restless and push her away –even hunt her for her power, for her spirit– because they didn’t process immortality like the Sky People, she would watch them raise and fall and wouldn’t be able to lead them as she would wish, as she would hope to use her immortality for.

But here they were, surrounded by their found family, surrounded by people just like them, surrounded by trees and animals and undoubtable life and these fears and problems seemed so very distant now. They lived as if they had always wanted –on the ground and in peace, free of duties and having done their part, having saved their people from the end of the world. It was up to them to survive now, to find new leaders and adapt to this new reality and world and both Lexa and Clarke had played their part and they owed nothing more to their people.

Radiation would fade, would be sucked in the ground and be blown away by the air and their valley would slowly expand for what was left of the human race. If their own people hunted them away from this last valley, believing they were spirits and ghosts and monsters, so be it… They’d travel across the world; they’d find another spot, another place that could be home; the two of them and these six people, who had stayed and had fought with them with no second thought, who’d become their companions in this eternity and who had become family.

Whatever was thrown their way by the universe or destiny or whatever was up there and had called them to live longer than anyone else in this world, Clarke and Lexa could only do one thing.

Live.

And they chose to do it together and with these people.

Until the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, people, someone should write more of this AU because I need more. I need the morden setting immortal Clexa, the cannon divergence immortal Clexa, the old guard characters in the 100 setting, a twenty chapter long ass story about this AU with slow burn and every couple trope there is.
> 
> Just... immortal Clexa, you guys, where are the fics. it's been so long since the movie came out, what are you going people?
> 
> And yes, I killed Clarke with the Flame and I killed her again to have Lexa coming out of the damned shadows and speak the hell up. I thought that in a way, the grounders would pull a Middle Ages mood about them being immortal and listen, LISTEN, this is CANON alright, they were hunting Clarke in season three for her spirit or whatever of course they would not be able to process immortality and think they are ghosts or whatever. And it was a reason why Lexa left Polis as well in the previous chapter.
> 
> Yell at me about it but I stand by my point.
> 
> And Quynh, MY GOD GUYS, i cannot deal with this character okay? Okay. I have a soft spot and there is some story in my head of how she came to be who she is in this fic but yeah, this is a Clexa story so I did not write it. And I know Andy lost her immortality in the movie but TO HELL WITH THIS she is Quynh's immortal wife and this is an au so I can do what i want.
> 
> Excuse any mistakes. Happy reading, wash your hand, kick a cop in the balls, and have a wonderful day.


End file.
